Five Haircuts
by Stuck-In-221B
Summary: It is what it says on the tin. A little set of chapters about Molly's and Sherlock's relationship and how five haircuts work into it. Eventual Sherlolly. T because I'm paranoid :) (multi chapter).
1. Chapter 1

Molly had been working for 10 hours by now; she was exhausted after being on her feet all day. She couldn't wait for the time to come when she would be able to go home, have a soak in her bath and just take the weight off her feet. But until then she still had 4 hours left of standing around working. As much as Molly loved her job as head pathologist she did hate times like this where all the others where off on holiday or sick. She had spent the last week doing extended shifts and could not wait for the weekend to come so she could relax.

Molly was elbow deep in a cadaver when she heard her door swing open and bang against its hinges, clearly announcing the arrival of Sherlock. Molly let out a loud sigh, why he had to bang the door every time he came in was a mystery to her she thought before looking up to face him. The only thing that could make her shift go any worse was the arrival of Sherlock yet here he was, no doubt coming with some case that would end up making her shift last two times as long and require ten times as much emotional effort.

Yet when she looked up she burst out laughing. Sherlock stood in the door way with a scowl on his face and a beanie hat covering the majority of his head. Molly's response to laughing at him did not make his scowl lift in fact it made it even deeper. Molly had met Sherlock five years ago yet he had never seen him with a beanie hat on, the clash of his tailored suit with the hat did nothing for him except make it look like he had a very confused identity. Her laughter died away after a couple of minutes and she yet again lifted her head to face him.

"Any particular reason you are wearing that ridiculous hat Sherlock?"

"No, I have just decided that having a hat is a good look." He barked as he went to take his seat in front of the microscope.

Molly didn't reply but instead waited five minutes allowing Sherlock to get thoroughly immersed into the world of microorganisms. Then crept up behind him, which wasn't that hard due to the fact that he was lost in his palace, and ripped the hat off his head. Sherlock realised what was happening a millisecond too late, Molly had pulled his hat off before Sherlock had chance to spin around on his stool and see what was happening.

Sherlock had clearly been wearing that atrocious hat to hide something; Molly didn't know that what he was hiding was his haircut. He must have been to the barbers earlier that day as his hair certainly hadn't looked like that yesterday. She once again proceeded to laugh and if she was not mistaken had caused Sherlock to lightly blush.

"What, what happened, to your head?" questioned Molly through fits of giggles.

"Mycroft made me get it cut." Stated Sherlock who was trying to act like he wasn't bothered but the now violent blush in his cheeks betrayed him.

"Why did he force you? I thought that it looked good." She personally hadn't found his hair offending and liked the way his long curls crowned his head; it gave him a wild look about him. Now it was Molly who was blushing, due to the way her thoughts were going.

"Thank you Molly, next time you see my brother please inform him of that opinion. He seems to think that it was untidy and he threatened to tell mother if I did not have it cut."

"Ok but who the hell did you pay to do it? It looks awful." Molly felt a lot braver when talking to Sherlock while he looked 'not his best'.

"John recommended him." Spat out Sherlock, who was annoyed at himself for taking Johns advice as real and not as the sarcasm that had been intended.

"Why didn't you stop the man when he was doing it, surly you could see that he was doing a very bad job?"

"I was in my mind palace, I had just solved a particularly hard case and I was just organising my notes and got lost. It is the same reason that I didn't realise John was being sarcastic with his recommendation. Sometimes having a mind like mine is more a curse than a blessing, not like your simple brains."

"Ahh" muttered Molly trying to ignore the insult as she continued to stare at Sherlock's head. "So Sherlock, did you get the man arrested for crimes against hair?" giggled Molly.

"Yes molly, most amusing." Commented Sherlock, not that entertained by her little joke.

His hair looked as if it had been covered in some sort of grease making it hang down in curtains then given a particularly vicious bowl cut with semi blunt scissors. Then whilst it had been covered in a hat that had been later pulled of his head it had regained some of its signature curls. All in all he had a half greasy hacked bowl cut, defiantly not a good look.

Molly finally felt a bit of sympathy for him, he was probably not used to having a bad appearance. For a man who proclaimed that he didn't care about looks he did spend a large amount of money on suits and his hair never usually looked anything from perfect. So she stopped her staring and handed him back his hat, which he hastily pulled over his hair as he settled back into his work muttering a thank you to her.

She herself got back to work but every now and then she would scan over to Sherlock and smirk to herself knowing what lay underneath that hat. After 2 hours of silence in the morgue Sherlock got up clearly pleased with his research as he said a quick goodbye to her as he left. Molly was surprised to get any acknowledgement from him; normally he would leave without any good bye. It took ten minutes of Molly staring at her bag then back to her paperwork and back again for her to give in and retrieve her phone and send a short text to John.

_Make sure you check out Sherlock's hair, I don't know where you sent him but he took you up on it. – Molly xx _

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**This is my first cut of the story, a particularly bad haircut.**

**I own nothing!**

**Anyways a review would be nice?**

**-Kat :)**


	2. Chapter 2

It had been three months since Sherlock's bad haircut and his hair had once again returned to its usual dark, curly mop look. John had stopped showing everyone the picture and gloating about how ridicules it looked and it had mainly been forgotten. Obviously John could not completely let it go, he would still bring it up when he was annoyed at Sherlock and rather surprisingly Sherlock would get all defensive about it. John had finally found something Sherlock was embarrassed about so he could not drop it entirely.

It was Molly who was now sat in the morgue with a bad haircut. Sherlock was trying to get evidence for a case he was working on; a hairdresser was somehow dying people's hair with a new chemical which would kill them over a matter of weeks. So naturally he needed someone to go undercover and spy out what was going on. Molly booked in for just a trim so she would not run the risk of getting the poison unfortunately the hairdresser was not in fact qualified and it was all a rouse. Molly ended up coming out with a very lopsided haircut looking like she had cut it herself while drunk. Safe to say, it was not a good look.

The worst part for Molly was that Sherlock was due to come into the morgue at any minute to ask her about what she found whilst she was in there. Molly could remember how when she saw Sherlock's bad haircut she had burst out laughing, only now did Molly begin to feel awful about that. If she had laughed at his bad haircut what was he going to do when he saw hers? He certainly isn't known for his kindness of subtlety. The longer she sat there hunched over her paper work the worse she felt, she had various scenarios running through her head about exactly how cruel he was going to be.

As Molly glanced up at the clock she realised she had two minutes before she could leave, so she began packing her things away. Molly had set an appointment with her regular hairdresser for straight after her shift so that she could get her hair sorted out. She was lucky to get one due to it being so near Christmas. It looked as if Molly was going to be lucky in avoiding Sherlock; 'perhaps he has found enough evidence as it is on his own and doesn't need my assistance' thought Molly to herself as her spirits lifted. Sherlock would not see her while she looked worse than usual and for this Molly began to praise her luck.

Moments later her happiness shattered a she heard the door slam open and that familiar tread come wondering in. Molly knew who it was before she looked up and turned around.

"Of course" Molly muttered to herself, she never had good luck and this time was no exception.

When she did look at him she could see him look her up and down and a quizzical expression spread across his face. Although the laughter that she had anticipated did not come, nor did a string of remarks about it. He remained stood stock still with that puzzled look across his face.

"Don't you dare say a word Sherlock, I mean it." Molly said, before Sherlock could say anything.

"I assume you are talking about your hair?" stated Sherlock.

"Of course."

"Well it does not look that bad."

Molly's mouth gaped open, she was flabbergasted. She knew her hair looked bad and she thought that he would be the first to point it out, but instead he was dismissing it. Out of all the ways she would have thought him to have reacted this was not one of them.

"Thank you" murmured Molly not really sure what to say. She had expected Sherlock to be harsh so had not prepared herself for this.

"Well it is I who is to blame Molly. Don't forget it was me who instructed you to go into that hairdressers in the first place." Said Sherlock in a very dismissive way. "Now Molly what did you find out?" he asked.

After staring at him for another second she started to tell him all about what she had found out, for once he just sat in silence listening with his eyes closed absorbing all of her words without any interruptions.

After only 5 minutes his eyes flew open as he asked her to repeat her last sentence. He then jumped up kissed Molly on the forehead and ran out of the morgue with his coat sweeping dramatically behind him. Molly was left sitting stunned at her desk, tracing where Sherlock had just kissed her with her hand.

As she tried to rationalise why Sherlock had done it, Sherlock was also thinking about it as he climbed into the back of the cab. He could not work out why he did it, all he knew was that Molly had given him the final clue that he needed and know he was certain of who was committing the murders and why. But he never kissed John when he came up with useful hints, but it felt right to kiss her he argued.

It wasn't long before Sherlock realised that he had been concentrating on the feeling of Molly's soft skin under his lips for the last few minutes. He tried to dismiss it and instead ended up thinking about the consequences of sending Molly to get her hair cut. Not only had he caused her to have a bad haircut which he knew was a very embarrassing thing, but he had also caused her to miss her appointment which he deduced she had scheduled for straight after work. He had not done it intently; he just enjoyed listening to her voice talking about the case.

Once again Sherlock realised where his thoughts were leading him and it scared him. He could not succumb to emotion and that is exactly what was happening now. He decided that he needed to cut off any feelings Molly had for him. He decided that the Christmas party that John was throwing would have to do.

Sherlock did not like owing people and he owed Molly for this. So he picked up his phone and sent Mycroft a quick text.

Molly walked out of St Bart's feeling a mixture of ecstasy and annoyance. Sherlock Holmes had finally kissed her that is what she had been wanting for ages. But, because she was talking to him she had missed her hair appointment and with it being a week until Christmas there was no way she would be able to get another.

Just as she was thinking this a sleek black car pulled up beside her, Molly had been dealing with Mycroft and his eccentric ways for years, so she did not really question it. She just slid into the car next to the woman who called herself Anthea.

The thing that did surprise her was when the car pulled up outside a very exclusive salon.

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**Hey guy's thanks for all the follows, favourites and reviews so far, you guys are so kind J**

**Ohh and if any of you guys have any story ideas that I can do or anything, let me know in a pm or something.**

**Anyways a review? **

**- Kat. **


	3. Chapter 3

It had been one weak since Molly last saw Sherlock, it had been one weak since she had helped him fake his suicide and it had been one weak since she could sleep. Her eyes and limbs felt heavy as she crossed the dark room, desperately trying to stay upright. It was not that Molly could not sleep more like she was too scared to. Whenever she found herself drifting off out of pure exhaustion she would be plagued with nightmares of Sherlock: first asking for help, with the saddest expression she had ever seen on his face; and second, the image of his blood stained body as she saw him scraped of the pavement and wheeled into the morgue.

Of course she knew that he was alive, she had even helped him sneak out the back of the morgue but it all still felt very real. Now there was someone hammering on her door pulling her out of her terrible thoughts. As Molly wrenched open the door she felt puzzled for a few seconds before recognising the signature cheekbones and perfect face structure. Sherlock was here at her door, yet looking completely different as he strode past Molly flicking on her light switch as he made his way into the room.

"Ahh Molly do close that door, it's getting rather cold in here" said Sherlock, as he tried to sound like his old self. Unfortunately for him Molly could see past it all. She could see his eyes and they weren't bright and sparkling, they were dead.

Molly closed the door then spun around to face Sherlock. He had dyed his hair ginger and instead of its usual curly bounce it had been cut shorter and was currently matted on top of his head. He looked distinctly un-Sherlock with the combination of his hair and his dress. He was wearing a pair of faded washed out jeans, a tight worn out black t-shirt and a battered old leather jacket. Even though he looked vastly different, Molly thought he still looked gorgeous.

"Nice disguise" was all Molly could manage as the pair continued to stare at each other.

"Thank you" Sherlock murmured after a pause.

Molly was feeling vulnerable under Sherlock's gaze as she always did. He had a way of seeing right into her as if she was invisible. But now she could see him, they both shared a gaunt look about their features. Clearly he had not ate or slept much in the last week, in some ways Molly found this to be a comfort as it showed that he was human. He was missing Baker Street and John she thought. Of course it made her feel twice as bad seeing him like this, but she tried to keep one singular thought in her mind 'at least he is alive'.

Molly knew that she was never going to forgive herself. She had introduced Sherlock to Jim… Moriarty, she corrected herself. Sherlock would have to leave his best friend/blogger /maybe more? all because she thought that Moriarty liked her.

"So, decided to go ginger then?" said Molly quietly, trying to relieve some of the tension.

"Hmm. It's statistically the most overlooked hair colour there is. No one suspects the red head, if you will." Then he smirked, giving Molly that all too familiar pull in her stomach which made her want to grab his face and do unspeakable things to him. But this wasn't the right time even for thoughts like that, so she did the most appropriate thing she could think of.

"Tea?"

Sherlock nodded as she walked through to her kitchen to put the kettle on.

When Molly walked back through to her lounge she saw Sherlock sat stark still on the couch staring far off into the distance. He did not look like he was in his mind palace but more like he was extremely distracted. Molly had never really saw Sherlock in any other way except cold and calculating, so this was a definite change. He looked more vulnerable than she had ever seen him and this unnerved her a bit.

As Molly put the two steaming cups down on the table and sat opposite Sherlock on her chair she took to opportunity to notice all of his changes. The hair was the most severe, there was only one other time had she ever saw Sherlock without his perfect curls. But they had a silent agreement to never bring the others bad haircuts up, ever.

After a couple of minutes of silence Sherlock looked up at Molly and spoke.

"You haven't been sleeping."

"No, I um well I get nightmares" stuttered Molly.

"I am the same. I can't stop thinking about them Molly."

"Who?"

"Everyone that thinks I am dead. I sacrificed myself for them yet it has hurt them so much. Why are they so sad, it's been a week? Don't they think I'm a fake? Why are you sad?"

And this was it, Sherlock was opening up to her and showing her what he had going on inside his head.

"What don't you get Sherlock? They will never think you are a fake, we all knew you and it doesn't matter what you say or what the papers are saying. We can never even entertain the idea that you were faking. And as for the other part we all hurt because we care. We have all cared for you even when you didn't know it. Why else would we put up with half of the things you did." Molly watched Sherlock's reaction for a minute, and then continued. "Sherlock we all go outside and the headlines saying you were a fake and your face plastered everywhere, we see how the world has turned against you and how you were driven to kill yourself because of it. We are not sad because we think we were taken in by you, more by the fact that you are gone and we won't ever know the reason why."

"But you know the reason."

"Yes but I mourn for a different reason Sherlock, one that you won't understand"

"Why won't I understand it?" questioned Sherlock.

"Because you are lucky." Said Molly dryly as she looked into the bottom of her mug trying to avoid Sherlock's eye contact. She was of course referring to the pain of loving Sherlock and having to loose him. She has been dealing with his rejection for so long yet her love never dwindles. He would not understand what she felt because he did not understand what it is to love, or so she thought.

After another few minutes silence Sherlock got up took his mug back through to her kitchen then once again joined her in the lounge.

"I have to go now Molly. You won't see me for a while now."

"Where are you going, how long?"

"I can't tell you where and I don't know how long I will be gone, it may even be forever."

At this point Molly's whole face dropped, she could not face the truth that she may never see him again. Sherlock walked straight up to her pulling her up to her feet and looked down into her eyes.

"Please Molly for me, look after the others and don't be so sad."

They were the two things that Molly could not do but she nodded anyway. She could not disappoint him especially when it was his final request.

Sherlock began to turn away towards the door but changed his mind a microsecond later and he turned back and gave Molly a small kiss on her cheek. Then fled the flat into the London streets that were now being poured with rain. All she saw was a flash of ginger, streak past her window and then he was gone, gone for perhaps the last time.

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**Thank you everyone for being so patient with me. I have loads of school work on at the moment (damn you teachers) so it's hard to find the time to write. **

**I hope you enjoy this chapter. And thanks to all of you who have reviewed it lights up my day when I see the emails come in saying 'new review'. Also thanks to the followers and the favouritors (I don't think that's a word but I'm going with it anyway ****). **

Renaissancebooklover108, CorpseGrl, KraZiiePyrozHavemoreFun, Guest, Rocking the Redhead, Crimson and Chrome 42. (These are my lovely reveiwers, thanks guys)

**A review would be really AMAZING. – Kat. **


	4. Chapter 4

It was on the third anniversary of Sherlock's death when Molly thought about having her hair cut. Everyone around had moved on with their lives, never forgetting Sherlock but learning to live with the pain. Molly however was unable to move on; she knew that he was potentially out there somewhere, if not dead. She had had no contact with him in the whole time that he had been gone and even Mycroft had stopped answering her calls.

They were all stood around Sherlock's grave when Molly really took notice of how things had changed. John was now engaged to Mary Morstan and was expecting their first child together. Lestrade had finely left his wife and was currently seeing someone else, even Mrs Hudson had a new fancy man for god sake. But she was still alone and still pining over Sherlock. Molly had tried to date other men but after a long string of unsuccessful dates she had pretty much given up. It was right at that moment, stood around Sherlock's empty grave that she decided to change herself and begin living her life without the burden of Sherlock. He had told her that he may never come back; it was only now that she was beginning to believe it.

With this new attitude she decided to trial a whole new look and finally she would find someone else and move on with her life like the others. After the party had broken up and each gone their separate ways Molly called up her hairdresser and booked in for the nearest appointment she could get, which happened to be the next week.

On her way home Molly grabbed a couple of bottles of wine to help her through the night. Yes she wanted to move on and stop pining over Sherlock but even she could not turn off her feelings in one moment especially on the night of his 'death'.

Once Molly woke up she felt the full force of her migraine. Unfortunately it had taken quite a bit of alcohol for her to forget all her troubles and pass out from a mixture of exhaustion and intoxication. With her next shift not scheduled until tomorrow Molly felt it was ok to spend the day in bed recovering.

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By the time the next week came around Molly had all but forgot about her hair appointment and the whole reasoning behind it. It wasn't until she got a message on her phone from her hairdresser informing her of her upcoming appointment. Once she realised this her whole motives were strengthened and Molly went to her appointment full of ideas of how to have her haircut.

"So how would you like your hair done, the usual?" questioned Molly's hairdresser, Becky.

"No thank you. I want something new" stated Molly with conviction.

After a lengthy discussion with Becky they decided to go for a shoulder length pixie cut with layers added. This way it would still be long enough to tie up when she was at work, mixing practical with style for a change. After getting it cut Molly left the salon and made a beeline to the centre of town. She could not stray too far from her comfort zone, so yes she did end up buying a couple of cardigans. But mostly some fitted blouses in various colours for work as well as some slim fit trousers that actually fit her instead of falling down when she forgot her belt. After racking up a fair few hours shopping time and a huge cost on her card she finally set off home.

When Molly got ready for work the next morning she looked at herself a little longer in the mirror, she spent a little longer on her make up yet still kept it subtle. Molly was very happy with her new haircut, it gave her the confidence that she needed. Normally she would fade into the background and try to hide from the world, but now she held her head high and walked through the crowds. Of course she still had the same old insecurities as always but with her new cut and clothes she did feel just that little more confident.

After her double shift in the morgue was done Molly was all ready to go home. Her feat ached and she was exhausted. She had however received many compliments on her hair and clothes over the course of the day and when she went to the canteen she had even earned a wolf whistle from someone. As Molly stood by her locker pulling out her bags and hanging up her lab coat she heard footsteps coming into the locker room.

Molly looked up into the mirror in her locker and saw the face that she thought that she was never going to see again. His dark curls were back replacing the ginger tufts that Molly had last seen. He wore a weary expression on his face, had bags under his eyes and looked like he was in need of a good meal and a sleep. Molly's heart couldn't help but break a little at the site of him, as he drew closer she felt more and more scared. It had been three years since she saw him and now he was here just as she had decided to give him up and move on.

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Sherlock had planned to go and visit John as soon she go back but as he walked passed St Bart's he couldn't help but go in. He longed to see her, since the last time they had parted he had done so much and changed so much. He needed to get back to his old life and what better person could help him with that than Molly. She was a constant in his life, a fixed point if you will, never changing or going she was always there for him. As he waked down the dreary halls of the hospital he couldn't help but wonder what he would say when she saw him, would she faint or scream and shout.

As Sherlock stepped into the morgue it took him mere seconds to deduce that Molly had been here and was in fact in the locker room most probably preparing to go home. He decided to go and see her, for some reason it felt right for him to see her first John could wait a bit longer.

When Sherlock stepped into the locker room he could see Molly look up at him in her mirror, she didn't do anything she didn't faint or shout she just stood there looking shocked with her mouth slightly open. When she eventually turned around he couldn't help but notice how beautiful Molly looked, he could see her hair was cut and her clothes were changed.

Sherlock realised just how wrong he had been, he had counted on Molly to stay the same. She was his link back to his old life, the life he needed. But here she was different she hadn't acted how he had expected or even kept the look he had begun to associate with Molly (frumpy cardigans and shapeless trousers). Here she was in slim fitted black trousers and a blazer, the only thing that looked distinctly 'Molly' was the flowery blouse. Her hair was different, no longer the long pony tail but it was cut shorter and was styled.

After a few minutes silence Sherlock finally spoke, breaking the tension in the room. "Your hair is different."

First Molly giggled and then responded.

"Yes, yours is back to how it was I see." She said in a whisper, then even quitter she continued. "Does this mean you're coming back to us, is it over?"

With that sentence all of Sherlock's fear had left him, Molly was still the same. She had lost the stammer that would plague her whenever he was around but she was still undeniably Molly. Her voice soft and full of caring. With this Sherlock felt warmth spread through him, all thoughts of the others and of what had led him to be here now had vanished and all he could think about was this beautiful woman in front of him.

"Yes Molly its over" Sherlock stated.

Then he was suddenly enveloped by Molly as she hugged him. Sherlock just thought to himself definitely the same Molly; it was him that had changed.

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**Sorry, sorry, sorry, you don't realise how much time life takes up. With work and everything, but the chapters here now. Its not my best but I wanted to update and stop keeping you waiting.**

**Again a huge thanks to the reviewers and everyone, you are simply GREAT!**


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